Half-Blood Saints
by Rave Rose of Twilight
Summary: Follow Sam Colt aka. Colt, son of Hephaestus, as he goes through life doing what he thinks is best. Gathering friends and forging a gang to help humanity, will Colt and the Saints end up joining the Olympian Forces or will they side with the Titans and Kronos? I really don't know how to summarize this, so if you could help me with that and a title, I would appreciate it. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Half-Blood Saints  
**

 **Written By: Rave Rose of Twilight**

 **Warning: I don't own Saint's Row or PJO. I also don't own Borderlands...if I choose to use something from the series. Still iffy on it.**

Chapter One: In The Beginning

 _His breathing was labored. His throat was dry. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He felt a burning, tearing pain from his right arm and left leg. He coughed only to taste the coppery tang of blood filling his mouth. Looking to his right, he could see the grass growing more and more crimson as his blood stained the earth beneath him from the stump that used to be the remains of his arm before it had been violently torn from its socket. He suspected the same went for his left leg. A cold chill crawled through his body as life slowly left him in spite of his struggle to cling to it. He closed his eyes and bit his lip in frustration and mild resignation._

 _He didn't want to die, but he knew that was likely going to be his fate. Just as he began to accept his seemingly inevitable death, he saw a young girl with unruly black hair and neon blue eyes looking into his own. Her hand, soaked in his blood, was pressed against his cheek. She had been trying to save his life...stem the tide of blood coming from his arm and leg...but likely realized the futility of such an effort. He could see what she was feeling through those electric blue eyes._

 _Fear. Sadness. Anger. Several emotions rushed through her eyes, though none stayed there for long before another replaced it. A tear fell from her eye before she knelt down and whispered something in his ear._

" _Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry," she said sadly. "What's your name?"_

 _He coughed, but kept his mouth closed to avoid covering her in more of his blood. "Colt," he said weakly. He tried to say more, but his mouth was filling with too much blood to try._

" _Thalia," she whispered to him. "Thalia Grace."_

" _Thalia," called a strange, unfamiliar male voice. "Come on! If we don't leave soon, we're gonna die!"_

" _Shut it, Luke," she barked angrily. "He saved our lives! The least we can do is be with him during his final moments and try to make it as peaceful as we can!"_

 _The earth around him began to rumble as the sound of a group of monsters approached them. Colt was still clinging onto what life remained within his body._

" _Go," he whispered with a bloody smile. "Your friends need you more than I do. Keep them safe."_

" _I will," she said in a tearful whisper before releasing his limp hand and ran away from the scene with a small, blond-haired girl with steely gray eyes and a boy with smooth blond hair and angry blue eyes that spoke of mischief and betrayal._

 _When the three had vanished from sight, Colt laid upon the blood-stained earth with a small smile on his face. He wished he could have done more with his life. Looking back, sacrificing himself for a total stranger probably wasn't the brightest idea he ever had, Then again, he was never able to stand back when someone needed help._

 _As his world began to fade, the earth itself began to tremble and a sudden heat washed over him._

 _A towering mammoth of a man stood in the middle of the street, looking down upon the boy. His black, coal-like eyes seemed to radiate a sadness that most couldn't read. His black mane and beard were wiry and unkempt. His arms were immeasurably powerful. His hands were caked in soot and calluses, showing his dedication to manual labor and hard work. Around his waist was a leather tool belt with hammers, wrenches, tongs, and various other tools hanging from them, a sign of his craft of metallurgy. He gave a weak smile as he lifted up the boy with ease._

" _It's not your time just yet, my son," he said to the unconscious body in his arms. "There is still so much for you to do with your life. To the Pit with what Father says. I will not allow such potential to die simply because you interfered in a world you were not yet ready to enter."_

 _In a flash of fire, the two had vanished before reappearing in a massive workshop. The walls were adorned with various tinkerings and random creations he had built on whim alone. Weapons. Armor. Metal orbs that would speed through his workshop, categorizing the objects that he had created. If something was junk or obsolete, it would be placed in one of many junk yards located around the world._

 _He cleared off a table and laid his son down on it. He looked at the stumps and recalled a somewhat entertaining television show. What was it? Full Metal Jacket? Metalocalypse? It was something Metal..._

 _...Fullmetal Alchemist! That's right! An interesting tale of what the world might have been like had they focused more on Alchemy than furthering technology. Of course, Alchemy wasn't as it was portrayed in the show, but it was entertaining nonetheless. Now, Automail was the most interesting part of the show to him. Fully functioning metal limbs capable of hidden surprises. Like that one girl with a grenade hidden as a kneecap._

 _Bah. He was getting off track. The science and theory behind Automail intrigued him. It was initially designed as fully motorized battle armor, but was advanced enough to serve as a prosthetic limb for amputees who wanted something more versatile. It was linked directly to the nervous system, allowing it to take the electrical pulses from the nerves to power and regulate the various motors and actuators within the limb._

 _The process was undoubtedly painful since Ed, the main protagonist, had been fully awake during the process of installing his Automail limbs and the pain was so great that even after having his leg and arm destroyed when he tried to bring his mother back to life using Human Alchemy, a forbidden art, he still cried out in pain. However, it was entirely likely that by going through that pain, his normal pain threshold would shoot through the roof._

 _He looked around and saw several spare sheets of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold. Seeing his son lying on the table before him, he knew what had to be done. And so, he began to forge his son an Automail right arm and left leg. When he had finished the limbs, he went through the procedure to attach them to his son. Even unconscious, his painful cries echoed throughout his workshop. The man, however, refused to stop the procedure._

 _Finally, when the last wire was attached to the last nerve and the limbs were fully functioning, which he made sure of through some extensive testing, he was confident that his son would survive. With that out of the way, his son would need time to learn how to use his new limbs. Naturally, as his son, he would likely have an innate knack for technology and would grow accustomed to the limbs faster than most would dare to hope. That did not mean that he would have automatic knowledge of how to use his new arm and leg._

 _So he began to write down a small booklet that would detail how to perform the necessary tests to make sure they were functioning properly, exercises to help him get used to using his automail, and other bits of knowledge he would need to know to get used to them and take proper care of them so that they wouldn't need to get repaired more often than absolutely necessary._

 _Eventually, time began to pass once again. He'd witnessed Thalia Grace, the girl his son had sacrificed himself to save, sacrifice herself to protect Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, and Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, from a swarm of monsters, resulting in Zeus turning her into a tree that would protect Camp Half-Blood for many years to come. He witnessed Colt's mother as she lost all memory of their son. It would be easier and more humane to wipe her memory of Colt than watch her be driven insane like Hermes' lover, May Castellan, or driven to alcoholism and instability like Zeus' lover, Beryl Grace._

 _When the time came for Colt to return to the mortal world came, the man already knew where to send him. Stilwater, Michigan. It was a good place to start a new life and Colt would have every opportunity to live his life how he wanted to._

" _Farewell, my son," he said calmly. "May the Fates be kinder to you this time around."_

Colt shot up from his California King-sized bed. Sweat dripped from his brow. He'd been having recurring nightmares from time to time. Usually, it would stop after the earth shook when he was lying bloody and torn limb from limb in that field. That girl's name never left his memory. Thalia Grace. When most would have left him for dead to save themselves, she stayed there with him as he laid there dying and bleeding out.

However, what really bothered him was that powerful voice that rang in his ears while he was blinded by unconsciousness, yet still able to hear. The sound of the voice alone made his chest beat faster, yet slower at the same time. Like he should recognize the voice. Surrounded by fire, all he could hear was the striking of a hammer against metal on an anvil, the roar of a powerful flame, and the screams he made when his new limbs had been forcibly attached to him.

Those flames...they felt...comforting...welcoming...

...they felt like home.

As the adrenaline left his body, Colt removed himself from his sheets. He was a tall, young man. 16 years old and standing like a wall at 6 feet one inch tall. He was incredibly muscular with the build of a linebacker. His left arm rubbed uneasily against the metallic right arm as a phantom feeling entered his prosthesis. He'd had the artificial arm and leg so long that sometimes it was hard to remember that they were, in fact, artificial and not his actual limbs.

He'd been living on Saint's Row since he could remember. However, he'd been having vague, almost lucid dreams that seemed more like memories than dreams. Saint's Row was one of the few uncorrupted territories in Stilwater, though even that was slowly changing. For the most part, the entire city was involved in a massive gang war between the Vice Kings, Los Carnales, and the Westside Rollerz, intentionally misspelled of course. Luckily, his neighborhood was largely untouched by the senseless and pointless, in his opinion, violence.

As he got dressed, he prepared himself for the field trip Mr. Grovetree had planned out for his Natural Science classes. Their class was going to visit the zoo, where they would speak with veterinarians, animal handlers, and other employees to learn how they performed their jobs and how different the animals were and their dietary needs.

Mr. Grovetree was one of those hippy teachers. His brown hair was wrapped in dreadlocks. He always had this strange, far off gaze like he was perpetually stoned every second of every day. His classes were more focused on nature than any actual science. Most of the students thought he was crazy and usually goofed off during class, texting on their phones or gossiping with whoever was within earshot about some bout of stupidity.

Colt, however, was somewhat different. He knew, somehow, that the teacher was more than what he appeared to be. Despite his stoned demeanor, he was unusually and uncharacteristically sharp. Even when his back was turned, he was easily able and quick enough to identify students who were cheating or simply not paying attention to whatever he was teaching. Even though he looked fairly young compared to the other teachers in Stilwater, he seemed far more knowledgeable than the other teachers.

However, Colt didn't have a problem with his science teacher. In fact, Colt would dare to say that he was one of his favorite teachers. He helped him on a few assignments when his Dyslexia would act up, even if they weren't in subjects that pertained to the class he taught. The majority of his other teachers didn't care or were simply overwhelmed by trying to maintain order in their otherwise chaotic classrooms with hormonal teenagers to help any students who were having problems in their class.

"Mr. Colt."

Colt's head shot up and a hand rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Great. He'd been daydreaming again. So focused on trying to ignore the drivel coming from the idiots around him and tinkering with a few stray paperclips he'd found lying about that he'd fallen into a trance. Looking down, he saw a small train car sitting neatly on his desk.

He shook himself from his thoughts and returned his gaze to Mr. Grovetree. "Yes, Mr. Grovetree," he asked curtly. He didn't want to come off as annoyed to his favorite teacher, even though that was exactly how he was feeling. Now the eyes of the other students were on him, though thankfully their mindless chattering had stopped.

"Could you tell me what plant has had the greatest impact throughout recorded history," he asked calmly.

Colt looked at the teacher questioningly. "Recent history or ancient history," he asked.

Grovetree turned around and gave a half-baked smile. "Why not both," he asked.

Colt sighed. "If we're going from ancient history, I'd say...the olive tree. Without it, we wouldn't have sayings such as 'extending an olive branch' or some modern medicine. Olive oil has multiple health benefits that would take too long to go through." Grovetree nodded and motioned for him to continue. "Modern history...I'd say it would be a tie between the peanut and hemp." He heard several kids chuckle behind his back. "George Washington Carver found 300 uses for peanuts. Hemp, on the other hand, has many uses largely in the industrial and commercial industries. It's been used to make rope, clothing, food, paper, textiles, plastics, insulation, and even biofuel. And yes. It has even been believed to have some medicinal properties, though there has been no concrete proof that it does anything to cure or prevent diseases such as glaucoma, cancer, and other maladies."

Grovetree gave a weak nod and turned back to the chalkboard. "Correct, Mr. Colt," he said as he wrote down Hemp, Peanuts, and Olives on the board under a headline 'Greatest Historical Plants'. "There have been many plants throughout history that have been infinitely beneficial to mankind. In fact, without proper sources of agriculture, humanity would likely have suffered from several health deficiencies and have died out long before the middle ages. Even in the modern age, in spite of how advanced mankind has become, agriculture is still in high demand due to how quickly the population grows."

The class continues as usual with Colt and a few others trying to focus on the lesson while the others prattled on as they usually did. Occasionally, Mr. Grovetree would throw out a question to one of the other students, catching many off guard and making them look...

...well, it's not like they could look much stupider in Colt's eyes.

Before Colt knew what was happening, the bell rang and school was finally over for the day. As the students filed out of the class in what could only be called a human stampede, Colt tucked away his little paperclip train and packed the rest of his books. "Colt," called Mr. Grovetree. "Could I have a word for you for just a moment?"

Colt shrugged his shoulders before walking toward the teacher's desk. "How can I help ya, teach," he asked casually.

"I've noticed you've been nodding off more often," he said, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Is everything alright at home?"

Colt ran his hand through his hair. "Just some recurring nightmares," he admitted. "Between that and the gangs fighting so close to Saint's Row, it's getting harder to sleep."

The teacher nodded in understanding. Anyone who lived in Stilwater for long enough would understand the situation at hand. "I hope you're ready for the field trip. We leave in an hour," he said, causing Colt to roll his eyes.

Honestly, there were better things he could be doing than going to a zoo. He could be setting up defenses around his home in case those dumbass thugs got too close for comfort. But, if going on the field trip would make his favorite teacher happy, then he could sacrifice some measure of home security.

That didn't mean that his home would be defenseless. After all, just activating his non-lethal defense mechanisms should deter all but the most suicidal. If that didn't work, then CL4P-TP would land the final blow.

"Sure thing," he replied. "Is that all?"

Mr. Grovetree nodded, dismissing his student to his next class.

As he walked down the hall to his locker, he noticed many of his fellow students from Mr. Grovetree's class were snickering or giving him snarky looks. His gray eyes rolled in annoyance. He opened his locker with practiced ease before his hands began to pick and move his 'tinkerings' away so that he could reach his books while putting away his science book. When his locker door shut and was locked back up, he saw to his right a girl around his age with straight black hair done up in high ponytails, jet black eyes that seems to absorb all of the light in the room, and a rather buxom figure that had many boys coming close to breaking their necks. She and her lookalike that stood just opposite of her wore the traditional school uniform given to girls, which accentuated their curves.

"What do you want, Viola," Colt asked with closed eyes.

"Aside from how you can tell my sister and I apart when most can't," she said casually. "Just wanted to see what Mr. Grovetree wanted to see you about."

"He was just worried about my nodding off in class," Colt said as he walked to his classroom with Viola and a girl who looked like her clone following behind. "And as for how I can tell you and Kiki apart, you like white and Kiki likes pink."

The two girls look at their hands and notice he was right. Kiki always painted her nails pink and Viola always painted her nails white. "But...how..."

"Attention to detail," Colt said without a care. "If you aren't aware of your surroundings, how are you supposed to notice when things change? Now...why are you two talking to me? It's not like we're friends."

"Because out of everyone in this school, you're the only person who actually sees us for who we are, is able to tell us apart, and doesn't ogle us like we're only around for your sexual gratification," Kiki said while her twin nodded in agreement.

This caused Colt to pause as he mulled those points in his mind. He didn't ogle them because he kinda didn't care about girls. He was past the 'girls are icky' stage of his youth, but they just didn't appeal to him because he had far more important things going through his mind. He was able to tell them apart because he was a fairly detail oriented individual. He was the only person in their Shop Class who actually had perfect grades and in Shop Class, attention to detail was mandatory for some of the more complex builds.

As far as seeing them for who they were, he actually respected them at some level. They knew they were beautiful and used that to get anything they wanted from test answer sheets to handmade gifts from would-be suitors without compromising who they were. Of course, because of this, many of the girls would spread rumors about their 'promiscuity' and how easy they were. Colt, it seemed, was one of a very select few who either ignored the rumors or simply didn't believe them, allowing him to treat them as if they were anyone else.

"So because I'm indifferent to you and don't pay attention to the mind-numbing drivel that other people say, you respect me," Colt asked skeptically.

"Well, when you put it like that, you kinda make it sound like you're an asshole," Viola said.

"But...yeah. That sounds about right," Kiki finished.

Their next and last class together was , their Math teacher, Ms. Count, had a panic attack fifteen minutes in when the workbook continued to mention monkeys, a deep-seeded fear of hers, so often that she began to hallucinate that the students turned into monkeys and the wallpaper was decorated with bananas.

After running down the hall, screaming at the top of her lungs about monkeys trying to throw poop at her, the principal, Mr. Mister (And yes. That was actually his name.), told them that the rest of class was canceled until he could get the substitute Math teacher, Mr. Sum, in tomorrow.

That left him half an hour to essentially sit around until the field trip started. And for whatever reason, Kiki and Viola DeWynter practically refused to leave his side. They said he needed to be more 'social'. Needed to make 'friends'.

Bah. Didn't they understand that he liked his peace and solitude? Even the teachers seemed to understand this because even on group projects, he wasn't forced to be paired with anyone. He just did the project on his own. Nobody complained and his grades didn't fall because of it. That was a Win-Win in his books.

"Come on, Colt," Kiki said as stood in front of him alongside Viola while he was leaning against a tree.

"I should have just gone to Shop Class," Colt muttered under his breath. At least with the power tools running, he could ignore the world around him while he worked. But no. He just HAD to go to his 'spot' where he could just relax, hoping that Kiki and Viola had something better to do than bother him until it was time for the field trip.

Nope. They followed him. And now they were trying to convince him to sit next to them on the bus. As if the glares coming from many of the DeWynter sisters' admirers weren't troublesome enough.

"We're not asking for a whole lot," Viola said with her arms crossed just under her bosom, making them appear larger to those who payed attention. "All you have to do it sit next to us."

Colt had gone on many field trips that, coincidentally' the DeWynter sisters had gone on. He knew why they were asking what they were asking. Some tool who thought he was big shit would sit next to them and flirt with them throughout the entire field trip. The two would ignore their harasser and try to get away from them.

"Fine," Colt said in an aggravated tone, finally giving up on getting his peace and quiet back. "But only on the condition that during the entire field trip, you don't bother me. No nudging me to get my attention. No trying to get me to 'socialize'. Nothing."

The two looked to one another, likely having some kind of mental conversation before returning to look at him.

"Agreed," the two said simultaneously. If it got some of their most annoying would-be suitors away from them for long enough, anything was worth it.

"Good, now can I be left alone for a minute," Colt said, causing the girls to smirk.

"You mean...you don't know what time it is," Viola asked Colt, causing him to frown before looking at his watch.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

It was time to board the bus and he'd lost out on thirty minutes of relaxation time. He could only hope that the rest of the field trip turned out better than it was starting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Half-Blood Saints**

 **Written By: Rave Rose of Twilight**

 **Warning: I don't own Saint's Row or PJO or Borderlands or anything else I might plan on using if only for reference sake.**

Chapter Two: A Field Trip From Hell

Oh how he was beginning to regret sitting with Kiki and Viola DeWynter. First of all, they insisted he sit between them. Normally not a big deal. Within minutes of the bus starting to drive off toward the Stilwater Zoo, both Kiki and Viola had passed out on his arms, preventing him from reaching into his pocket and putting in his earbuds to play some kind of music loud enough to help him ignore the irritated looks he was getting from the guys in their class.

What wrong could he possibly have done to cause him to go through such torment?! Whatever it was seemed to cause Mr. Grovetree some sort of amusement if his chuckling anytime his gaze landed on the two girls and Colt was anything to go by.

The bus ride was annoyingly long. Between the 'whispers' and occasional wad of paper thrown his way, Colt was quickly growing more and more agitated with his 'peers'. Then the bus breaks down half way there, forcing the students to take an early lunch. Luckily, Colt always had a tool set on him and within a matter of minutes, the engine was fixed, cleared of the oil build up and with a new spark plug, and they were back on their way. This also gave Colt time to fish out his earbuds and he traveled the rest of the way to the zoo listening to a mixture of radio stations ranging from 80s and 90s Pop and Rock music to Dubstep.

Once they reached the zoo, the students, followed by Mr. Grovetree, disembarked the bus. Much like how Colt and Mr. Grovetree expected, the students dispersed to the four winds. Colt's eyes were roaming left and right as he looked over the zoo and the people who were visiting the various enclosures. For some reason, his gut was screaming at him and he was never one to ignore his gut instincts.

When he let Mr. Grovetree know about the unsettling feeling he was having, but the teacher just kind of laughed him off. "Go on, Colt," he encouraged. "Go explore the zoo. I told everyone we're going to gather back here in an hour to talk to the zookeeper. Have fun out there."

With that said, Colt walked away from his teacher, the uneasiness in his stomach refusing to go away. His gray eyes darted from left to right, scanning over each of the zoo's guests. He blinked his eyes furiously. Damn his ADHD. It was really starting to get to him.

His stomach growled and his metallic hand reached down to his stomach, rubbing it gently. When was the last time he remembered to eat? It must have been a while. As he looked around for some idea of where the food court was, a familiar and alluring smell found its way to his nose. The smell that every Stilwater resident knew by heart.

Freckle Bitch's.

As he followed his nose to the familiar fast food joint, he saw an admittedly attractive woman wearing a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and a blue shirt tied to reveal her rather ample bust and her midriff. She had freckles adorning her cheeks and red hair tied into a messy pair of ponytails.

"Welcome to Freckle Bitch's where you can't beat our meat," she announced to everyone, flashing the male passers-by a wink and nod.

Colt snorted. The woman was either a prostitute who got hired by Freckle Bitch's and decided to pull double duty to earn some money on the side or a professional stripper who knew that she needed to draw in a male audience using her sex appeal. He walked past her and sat down at the counter where he was greeted by another girl who looked just like the one out front.

Must be the company uniform, he thought before his hunger took control again. "Welcome to Freckle Bitch's. How can we service you today," she said seductively.

"I just need The Fist, some fries, and a Big Swallow," Colt said plainly. The waitress nodded, writing down his order before passing the ticket to the back and ringing the bell.

As Colt waited for his meal, his mind began to wander. The gang fighting was getting closer to Saint's Row, the place he called home. But he did his best to keep his distance from the warzones.

Los Carnales was a Columbian Drug Cartel and ran the Southern Island. Because of their connections to Columbian drug czars, they had a near endless supply of drugs and enough weapons to keep fighting the wars. When they got too big, Benjamin King built his own gang known as the Vice Kings and managed to kick Los Carnales out of the Sunnyvale Gardens, where they primarily operated. Still, this did not deter Los Carnales and eventually they recovered from their major losses to the Vice Kings and rebuilt to become a significant threat.

The Vice Kings ran the entertainment industry in Stilwater. Prostitution. Retail. Music. Any part of the entertainment industry in Stilwater and you could bet it was run by the Vice Kings.

Lastly was the smallest gang of the three. The Westside Rollerz controlled the car and street racing scenes. You remember those rich kids who lived in the 'burbs and flaunted their wealth through their cars? That's what the Rollerz crew consisted of.

The bulk of the fighting was done by the Kings and Los Carnales. The Rollerz just sat back and watched, hoping that by the time the bullets were done flying, the two hardcore gangs would either destroy themselves or be weak enough for them to move in and take over.

A large pound and a half burger, an order of fries, and a large drink were set in front of Colt, who grabbed the drink and took a sip before setting it down. The whole thing was a mess, if you asked him. Why the police or government didn't do anything to stop them was beyond him. Then again, considering how openly corrupt several government officials were, it wouldn't surprise him to learn that many of them were being bribed by the gangs in question.

He grabbed his burger and took a bite. It was super juicy and cooked to the perfect medium rare. Toasted sesame seed bun. Tomatoes. Onions. That hot spicy brown mustard that just brought it all together into one of the most delicious burger experiences known to mankind. His stomach's loud roar turned into a quiet rumble as he swallowed the burger in his mouth and followed it with a cola chaser from his Big Swallow.

There's nothing quite like Freckle Bitch's.

Just as he was about to take his second bite of the wonderful burger before him, he heard the multitude of people screaming at the top of their lungs. Turning around, he watched as people of all races and genders raced by with panic-stricken looks on their faces.

"One of the lions is loose!"

"Run!"

"We've got to get out of here!"

Colt sprinted from his seat and looked in the opposite direction of where people were running and the sight made his blood run cold.

 _Earlier..._

Kiki and Viola DeWynter had decided to visit a few of the exhibits, content that any would-be suitors would believe they were with Sam Colt since they had been sitting close to him and hanging out with him since after Mr. Grovetree's class let out. Did they feel bad about manipulating him? To a certain extent, yes. Colt, as he was often called, seeming to defer to that rather than Sam or any other sort of name, wasn't like other boys they manipulated. He was a loner who was often teased for being a cripple, needing a prosthetic arm and leg. He treated everyone save for Mr. Grovetree, it seemed, with relative indifference, if not outright disinterest.

He was one of the few people in the school who could tell them apart just by noticing something as small and insignificant as the nail polish they used. He didn't worship the ground they walked on like some love struck puppy as many of the boys in their school was prone to do. To him, they were just Kiki and Viola DeWynter, two girls who just happened to attend the same school as he did rather than idols or eye candy...and they found it hard not to respect him for those very reasons.

He was...different, but in a good way. Rough around the edges and always suspicious when something out of the ordinary occurred around him, such as when they chose to approach him.

Viola dragged her fingertips across the glass of the snake enclosures while Kiki hummed to herself, wondering where to go next before they had to rejoin the rest of the class and continue their field trip. That was...until they heard a sobbing sound coming from nearby.

The two walked over and saw a little girl wearing a red hooded cape huddled in front of the lion cage and crying. The two approached her, causing her to look up with red, bloodshot eyes. Her hands were furiously flying through motions that confused the two girls. They tried to talk to her, but she continued to go through those strange hand motions.

So preoccupied with the sobbing girl, they didn't notice a fairly tall man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes fiddling with the lock on the lion enclosure before running off out of sight.

The next thing the girls knew...was chaos. The crowd suddenly started screaming and it took only seconds to figure out why. A large yellow-furred lion was looking at them with a clear hunger in its eyes. It released a loud roar, causing chaos to unfold around it. As their eyes fell upon the mammoth creature, they could swear that they heard the subtle hissing of a snake somewhere nearby.

It lunged, intent on devouring the three in front of it. Kiki and Viola closed their eyes and used their bodies to cover the sobbing hooded girl. They waited for...something to happen. Pain. The dampness of the lion's gaping maw. Anything.

And yet...nothing happened. Were they dead? Was their death so painless that they simply arrived in the afterlife?

They heard the subtle sound of metal creaking in protest and, rather hesitantly, opened their eyes.

There he was. Colt was standing there with his hands each on one half of the monster lion's jaw. His legs were tensed and fighting to keep him in place as he wrestled with the monster lion. Their eyes were wide in surprise.

"Why," Kiki asked quietly, unsure as to how or even if he heard her.

"My body...just moved on its own," he said with a heavy grunt. _'It was just like that time...in my dream...'_ "Get out of here," he barked at them as his body strained to hold back the beast. The two were frozen in place. "RUN!"

The twins, shaken from their shock, grabbed the girl and proceeded to flee the scene, the hooded girl looking back and reaching out toward him. Once he couldn't hear the girls, he chuckled to himself. Oh how his mind flashed through the images. As soon as he saw Kiki, Viola, and that little girl about to be eaten, he could have sworn he saw her again. The girl from his dream.

Thalia Grace.

He had no reason to run toward the lion. He barely knew Kiki and Viola aside from their very limited and very brief interactions with one another. He could have fled. Run away. But something deep inside of him refused that call of action. He couldn't sit by while someone was in danger.

"So it's just you and me now, huh," he asked the beast. His steel gray eyes began to glow as an inferno swelled within his chest. His arms felt as if they were burning from the inside out...no. His whole body felt like it was burning with an unquenchable fire. "Having a hard time? Then let me give you a LEG!"

His prosthetic leg smashed into the rib cage of the lion, sending it tumbling away with a cry of pain. It got back up from the blow and roared angrily, its tail, now a green snake with fully functional head, was swaying as it hissed at him. Before he knew what was happening, the snake head spat out a glob of green goo, but Colt used his prosthetic arm to block it. The goo hissed as it devoured the sleeve of his shirt before he slung the acidic substance off with a flick of his arm.

Colt roared as he charged the monster, his adrenaline kicking in. The beast did the same, charging at him. A powerful bronze fist struck against the lion's snout, releasing a sickening crunch as bone and cartilage shattered upon impact. The snake head lashed out quickly, but hit the metallic arm with a resonating clang.

The teen grabbed the snake head with his other hand and, once he had a firm grasp while keeping the serpentine head from being aimed at his face should it choose to unleash another acidic blast, began to use his newfound strength to lift it off the ground as he began to spin. He continued to pick up speed in his spin before finally releasing it, sending it flying into and through the enclosure that once held it.

As the dust began to settle, Colt's eyes narrowed as his mind and heart told him that the fight was far from over. Suddenly, a blast of fire flew toward him through the dust, forcing him to dodge only to be surprised by the snake tail lashing out at him. Luckily, he had his fist cocked back and launched a powerful right hook into the snake's gaping maw, striking one of the teeth and sending it falling to the ground while the snake writhed in pain.

Seeing the fallen tooth, Colt quickly grabbed it and launched himself on top of the monster before using the tooth and stabbing it as fiercely and as swiftly as he could in as many places as he could. The eyes. The neck. The spine. The snake head reared back and proceeded to lunge at Colt only for the teen to dodge, resulting in the snake biting the crown of the lion. The two roared in agony as the acidic poison flowed through it. Colt was down on one knee, the needle-like tooth still in hand and ready to continue fighting.

As the lion roared and the snake hissed, its movements became sluggish. The two heads looked at him with a weakened glare before vanishing into a golden dust that blew away in the wind.

Colt's breathing became easier as the adrenaline left his system. He tucked the large fang onto the boot on his artificial leg before sighing in relief. "What the hell was that," he asked nobody in particular as he fell to his back and slipped into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

When Colt woke up, he noticed he was surrounded by Kiki and Viola, both of whom had admittedly beautiful smiled and slightly teary eyes, the little girl with the red hooded cape, who was currently hiding behind the legs of the twins, and Mr. Grovetree, who was smiling at him, though it wasn't the usual stoner smile he usually carried. No. This one seemed genuine and free from any possible chemical high he may have had.

He groaned. Ugh. His head was throbbing like wild. What happened? One minute he was eating at Freckle Bitch's, the next...he's holding off this yellow lion. Then things get blurry real quick.

"Easy there, Mr. Hero," Viola teased as she placed her hand on his shoulder and forced him back down. Man he felt so weak right now. "You're still in pretty rough shape after dealing with that lion."

He closed his eyes and tried to remember, but nothing was coming. He looked down at his chest and left arm and saw what looked to be bandages. "The doctors say that the lion had managed to scratch you up pretty bad," Kiki said. "They were pretty deep, but not so deep that it would leave a scar."

Colt grunted. With all of that adrenaline, he must not have noticed that the lion had done so much damage to him. "Why am I so dizzy," he said, repressing the gagging that made him come close to throwing up.

Mr. Grovetree pointed at the IV sending fluid to his arm. "Well, they did dose you up pretty heavily on pain killers," he mentioned. "I'm actually surprised you're this coherent. With as much drugs as they have pumping into you, you should be as high as a kite by now, if not completely catatonic."

Colt wasn't sure if his teacher was impressed or jealous at his body's tolerance for drugs. He'd rather the former over the latter, if he were to be completely honest.

"Was anyone else hurt," Colt asked.

The twins shook their head negative. "Once we found Mr. Grovetree and told him what was happening, he gathered all of the students to the bus before going out to find you," Viola told him. "He said he found you passed out and bleeding by the dead lion's body."

Colt nodded weakly before allowing his body to relax. As long as nobody else was hurt, he could rest a little easier. Mr. Grovetree nodded as he watched Colt shut his eyes. "Come along, everyone," he said. "Mr. Colt needs his rest and we should go back to the school."

"But what about her," Viola asked, placing her hand on the girl's head. "The police arrested her father for opening the lion cage and she has no other relatives to turn to."

The teacher knelt down and looked the girl in her silver eyes. The twins watched as the two were having a silent conversation with one another before the teacher chuckled and rubbed the girl's head. "I think it would be safe to leave her here with Colt for the time being," he answered, causing her to nod emphatically. "I'm sure the nursing staff won't mind. We can always come by tomorrow morning since it is the beginning of the weekend to check on them."

As the DeWynter sisters left the hospital, Mr. Grovetree pulled out a cellphone given to him and many of the older satyrs by Hermes, who guaranteed that it had a decent level of protection from Lamia's curse. He looked up a familiar number before pressing send. The phone rang for several minutes before the sound of the other end of the line picked up.

" _Good afternoon, Balthazar,"_ came a familiar, yet aged voice from the other end. _"It's been many years since you've called me. How have you been lately?"_

Balthazar Grovetree laughed. "I've been well, Chiron," he replied. "You know. Teaching young minds and whatnot. Sadly, this isn't a personal call. I believe I've found several powerful demigods hiding right under my nose."

" _Really,"_ Chiron said, intrigued at the discovery. _"Any idea who their parents might be?"_

"One of them is a craftsman," he mentioned. "Very good marks in Science and Shop Class. The other two girls...well, they are rather pale, but they get remarkable grades in Math." Balthazar walked through the hospital before finding a rather secluded space, free from pedestrian traffic. "They also found a young girl. She has a green thumb. Brought this absolutely beautiful rose with her, but she does seem rather...spry and energetic."

" _I...see,"_ Chiron muttered. _"Do any of them seem to fit the Great Prophecy?"_

"No such luck," Balthazar said sadly. "Too old. But that isn't all I have to say. The gardener girl's father unlocked and released the Chimera from its cage in the Stilwater Zoo. Thankfully, the craftsman took care of it. Barely got hurt save for a few scratches. Might leave a few scars, but nothing dangerous. He's powerful, Chiron. The strongest one of _his_ sons I've seen in my life. He took on the Chimera without a single weapon to defend himself. Just his fully functional prosthetic limbs that, if I were to hazard a guess, were made from Celestial Bronze."

" _Remarkable,"_ Chiron said in awe.

"Indeed," Balthazar said solemnly. "I think he might be beginning to 'awaken'. It won't be long before more monsters begin to show up once they catch his scent. And the scent of the other three girls won't make things any easier. Combined with the gang violence so rampant in the city, I fear Stilwater will quickly become a virtual warzone on both the mortal plane and the supernatural plane."

" _That is quite troubling,"_ Chiron noted. _"We need to get them to Camp Half-Blood soon before anything else decides to come after them. We can't afford to send anyone though with all of the violence there, unfortunately. We'll need to get them to move away from Stilwater before we can send someone to guide them."_

"I'll see what I can accomplish, Chiron," he replied. "But I can't make promises. I know it might sound cruel, but I really wish that these three gangs would just finish one another off."

The other end of the line was silent, but even Balthazar knew that silently, Chiron somewhat agreed with his statement. Not that he'd ever wish for someone's death, but if nothing was done, they couldn't send any Satyrs or experienced demigods to guide newly discovered demigods back to Camp for fear that they would be killed by one of the gangs in question. Between the likely increase in monsters due to demigods 'awakening' and the odds of the demigods getting killed in the middle of gang warfare, nobody was safe to venture into Stilwater that wasn't already there.

With nothing else said, the two said their final farewells before ending the call. Balthazar made the trek to his car and drove to the small, energy efficient home and using the opportunity to write in his journal. He wrote down Kiki, Viola, and Colt's names with a line along with other names or code names. Rich One. Craftsman. Then he wrote a blank space with a dash followed by Harvest with a slash by it followed by Tradesman. He looked at the names and sighed.

Twin daughters of Hades. The son of Hephaestus. And finally, the young daughter of Demeter and Legacy of Hermes. Beside the word Craftsman, he put in parenthesis the word 'Awakening'. It was a code word used to describe demigods who were beginning to unravel their identity or had peered through the Mist and saw a monster or some other supernatural being.

He put his pen down and rubbed his tired eyes. He was beginning to feel his age more and more.

Slowly, but surely, the aged Satyr laid down in his bed to rest unaware that those last moments would be the last on this plane.

The sound of a gunshot rang out through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Half-Blood Saints**

 **Written By: Rave Rose of Twilight**

 **Warning: I don't own anything I might reference in this story. Not even Naruto or PJO.**

Chapter Three: Enough Is Enough! Meet the Saints!

The next day, Kiki and Viola DeWynter had gone to visit Colt in his hospital room, as they had promised. However, they were surprised to see Colt smiling brightly, his eyes flipping to them before returning to the girl, as he entertained the little girl, who was sitting in his lap. His lips moved, but they couldn't see his hands very well. The girl looked surprised when she turned around, hopped off the hospital bed, and tackled the twins in a hug around their legs.

"Ruby Rose seems happy to see you," Colt said, his voice sounded gruff as usual, but carried with it a certain level of entertainment and mirth with it. It sounded...odd coming from the otherwise distant and solitary cripple, but not unwelcome. "She's been asking about you since eight this morning."

"But how..." asked Viola, confusion etched on her brow.

Colt's hands passed through some motions to the now identified Ruby before the girl nodded and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. "She's a signer," he answered with a shrug. "I learned it as an elective in middle school. Figured it would improve my manual dexterity and help me with my projects. Plus, it doesn't hurt to learn a secondary method of talking to others who might otherwise not be able to verbally communicate with you."

Viola and Kiki gave him flat looks before it finally dawned on them that Ruby was either deaf, mute, or even both, which explained why she flew through those hand motions, sign language, as if she didn't hear what they were saying. "She was worried that she wouldn't see her two big sisters who saved her after you left, but I kept reassuring her that you would be back to visit."

"At least one of you likes to see us," Kiki jabbed playfully.

"Well when two of the most popular girls approaches someone like me, you'd be skeptical of their motives too," Colt threw out. "And since we've never interacted before yesterday even though we've attended the same school together for the past however many years it's been, I've never had a reason to call you friends."

"Then why'd you do what you did yesterday," asked Viola softly.

Colt looked at his hands as if something were wrong with them. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I just saw you were in trouble and...my body moved on its own."

"It doesn't matter why he did what he did, Viola," said Kiki as she walked over to the bedridden Colt before placing a kiss on his cheek. "The fact is that he saved all three of our lives."

Viola smiled and did the same as her sister, making the normally stoic Colt's cheeks turn rosy. "Yeah. Thanks for saving our lives," she said before the two walked back to the other end of the room.

The sound of the toilet flushing was heard and within minutes, Ruby Rose was skipping out of the bathroom before deciding to stand between the twins. "Why don't you girls go get some lunch at Freckle Bitch's. Since Ruby and I have already had a pretty good breakfast, I figure you can get something to eat while I get dressed before checking out."

Kiki and Viola nodded before holding onto one of Ruby's hands before taking her downstairs to the burger joint that was arguably the most popular place in Stilwater known as Freckle Bitch's. Even though the DeWynter sisters weren't the biggest fans of fast food joints, they would admit that Freckle Bitch's had the best burgers in town.

In the privacy of his room, Colt started to disrobe in front of the full body mirror to inspect any damage he may have sustained during his adrenaline-fueled battle with that odd lion-snake hybrid. He had three large scars going from his left shoulder to right hip, but they were superficial at best. Eventually, they'd disappear and his skin would return to the healthy bronze shade that it usually took a few months to become unnoticeable. His arm had similar scarring, but that too would heal before becoming invisible. The only scar tissue that looked like scar tissue was around his shoulder and leg where the prosthetic limbs had been fused to his body's natural mechanisms in order to act as a regular limb.

Looking over his arm, he noticed some discoloration where the acid glob had landed before he threw it off. If the acid had gotten into the mechanisms, he'd have to go in and make repairs. He'd been lucky enough that he'd had a guide on what went into the limbs so that, as he grew older, he could make standard repairs to them in order for them to grow with him. If not for that, he might have been at a loss on how to fix anything that went wrong with his limbs. The gauntlet-like plating had only been subjected to the acid for a very few seconds. If it had been on longer, he might have just had to rebuild his arm from scratch.

He'd been planning on upgrading eventually. He was done growing, so the limb wouldn't need to get any longer. But he could add in some other mechanisms that could help him in a fight. Maybe a knife that came out from a slot in his wrist like an assassin's blade, making even a simple palm thrust quite deadly. Or maybe a longer sword or blade that acted like punching daggers or swords depending on their length. He'd also considered a grenade where his knee was that could be ejected quickly for a good distance, but then he'd have to worry about mobility and stability due to the missing knee.

He'd draw up some blueprints and figure out what was viable and what was just wishful thinking later.

Getting dressed had been a quick affair. A pair of jeans, his black boots, and a purple shirt with holes where the claws sliced through his jacket and shirt to get to him. His jacket had been destroyed in the fight, he suspected, otherwise it would have been in the pile of his clothes that had likely been washed. When he got home, though, he'd get rid of the shirt and grab another.

Once he was satisfied, he walked downstairs, checked himself out, and went to Freckle Bitch's, where Kiki, Viola, and Ruby Rose were just walking out, though Viola had a bag and a drink in her hand. She offered him the bag and drink. When he looked inside and took a sip, he looked at the twins oddly.

"Should I be worried how you know my order when we've only known each other for a day," he asked lightly.

"For your information, all we had to do was mention your name, smartass," Kiki jabbed with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure if anyone in Stilwater popped up in a Freckle Bitch's, they'd have their order ready," Colt said with a snort. It was just how popular the chain restaurant was. "I was gonna head home, so if you three want to hang out, feel free."

The twins knew Ruby Rose was going to go with the bulky teen since she seemed to be rather close to him and he did know sign language. They looked toward one another, having a silent conversation with one another before finally coming to the decision to spend some more time with Colt, getting the chance to actually get to know him.

It took them just over an hour to walk to his house. The entire time, Colt had Ruby Rose sitting on his broad shoulders while Kiki and Viola looked ready to pass out. Colt gave them odd looks before shaking his head and sighing. It would have been easier if he had a car, but the one in his garage and the motorcycle weren't ready just yet. He still needed to upgrade the motor, change the tires to All-Terrain, throw in a cleaner exhaust. Maybe find some uranium to power both vehicles. Sure it was radioactive, but it was a much cleaner fuel source than diesel or unleaded gasoline. Better for the environment in the long run.

Once they got to the front door, it suddenly burst open and a strange mechanical thing rolled over toward them on its single wheel. "Master," it shouted in a mildly and almost annoyingly happy tone. "You're back! I was so worried when the news said that a wild lion escaped its cage and attacked you at the zoo, but deep down, I knew my ultra badass Master could easily take on an army of lions!"

Colt chuckled, rubbing the robot's...head. "Good to see you doing well too, Claptrap," he said proudly before turning to look behind him. "Claptrap, these are my...friends. Kiki and Viola DeWynter and the little tyke on my shoulders is Ruby Rose. Ladies, this is my CL4P-TP Steward Bot, also known as Claptrap, my own personal AI partner and assistant."

Claptrap let out an audible gasp. "You made...friends," he asked before hopping up and down on his lone wheel. "This is GREAT! That means that by the transitive quality of our relationship that they're my friends too! Now I don't have to talk to that annoying squirrel that lives in the tree in the back yard! Did you know that squirrels are rude? He kept calling me names like 'Scrap Heep' or 'One Eye'! If he wasn't my friend, I'd have given him a stern talking to! But now that I have three more friends, I can do it anyway!" The excitable robot spun around and dashed toward the backyard. "WALTER! I've got something to say to you!"

"So...how did you find Claptrap," asked Kiki, still trying to get over how...annoying the mechanical being sounded.

"Didn't find him," Colt said as he walked inside. "I built him. Took me a couple of months, but he helps out around the place. Most of his parts came from this old junkyard downtown. His AI, though, was slightly harder to build and program. He needed to be useful and multi-purpose. His wheel lets him climb stairs without a problem. He was originally programmed to hand me tools and open doors, but then he started learning things on his own. I was thinking about reprogramming him when he started showing signs of an advanced sense of self-awareness, but I decided against it. Since then, he's been a pretty good companion to have around."

"While I barely understood half of what you just said," Viola started, "that sounds and looks like an amazing accomplishment for most people. Have you ever tried to show your creation to the world? You could get a Nobel Prize because of your groundbreaking invention! You could be rich!"

"Meh," Colt said with a shrug as he led the girls into his home, which seemed to take on a Steampunk theme compared to how it looked on the outside. "It was never really about recognition or money. Sometimes, I get these strange dreams. Kinda like lucid dreams. I see this set of blueprints in my mind when I sleep or when I daydream. When I wake up, I write down what I remember seeing and I decide whether or not I can do it with the materials I have on hand. If I can, then I'll eventually build it if I get bored or want to challenge myself."

The DeWynter sisters nodded in understanding, though they knew if they were in his shoes, they would have tried to make money off of it or use his creations to further their own goals. "So you actually made all of these things," Kiki asked as she inspected a rather unusual, yet beautiful grandfather clock.

"Yep," he replied. "You'd be surprised what things people throw away rather than try to fix it. I found an old grandfather clock in the junk yard just sitting there, gathering dust and getting moldy. Most of the parts were still salvageable other than the wood and a few rusty mechanisms that were too far gone. It was easy enough to restore."

"Master," called Claptrap as he wheeled into the living room. "Walter now knows the error of his ways. Is there anything I can help you and our friends with?"

"A couple of drinks would be nice," Colt responded. "A glass of milk for Ruby Rose. I'll have a glass of ice water. And...Kiki? Viola?"

"Root Beer," they asked simultaneously.

"And two Root Beers," Colt added.

The robot gave a salute. "Sure thing," he said before turning to the kitchen. "AWAY!" And like that, he rolled away to fetch the four drinks while he grabbed a can of ice cold, high-grade motor oil for himself.

Claptrap didn't take long to return to the four, giving each of them their own drinks. Once everyone else had their drinks, he took hold of his can of oil and popped the top on it. He popped open a small panel in the side of his head and placed the can upside down, allowing the cold oil to filter into his motor and distribute it through out his body, keeping all of the parts and pieces used to build him in perfect working order.

"GAH," he cried, placing his metallic hands to his head in agony. "BRAIN FREEZE!"

"Don't you need a brain to get brain freeze," Kiki asked the robot as Colt chuckled warmly.

"It's part of his charm," Colt said happily. "It's a mechanism I programmed into him. When his servos get cold, he'll 'feel' like he has brain freeze and knows to seek out warmth to keep his servos from freezing over. Same thing with heat. When they start burning up, he 'feels' like he's on fire and needs to find somewhere cold so that he doesn't spontaneously catch fire from a short circuit or overheating."

Viola nodded while Ruby giggled as the robot rolled around, crying about his brain freeze even though she couldn't actually hear his complaints. When she finished drinking her milk, Ruby yawned, stretching her hands above her head. Colt began to sign to her, to which she simply nodded. "Looks like Ruby Rose needs herself a little nap," he said. "Claptrap! Take Ruby to one of the spare bedrooms and tuck her in. Got it?"

Claptrap finally stopped moaning about his headache before saluting Colt. "You got it," he said before gently taking Ruby by the hand and guiding her to a bedroom.

Colt sat down on a large sofa, leaning back as he took another drink from his glass. The room was filled with an awkward silence. Kiki bit her lip before choosing to speak what was likely on all of their minds. "What's going to happen to Ruby," she asked, her whisper barely audible, but the silence of the room allowed it to carry to the ears of her sister and their shared friend.

"I'm going to take care of her," he said tonelessly. "She's going to be living with me and Claptrap."

"But what about school," Viola asked.

"I'm 95% sure I can ace the GED as it stands," Colt said somewhat confidently. "Besides, I won't have to listen to anymore mind-numbing gossip from those hormonal idiots anymore. Win-win, if you ask me."

The twins shared a grimace. They knew that aside from them, Colt didn't have any friends, so dropping out and getting his GED wouldn't affect him socially. "And what about Ruby's education," Kiki asked with a neutral glare at Colt. "She's old enough that she needs to go to school."

Colt frowned. "I can't send her to school with the constant gang battles going on," Colt said. "She's more liable to get shot by a stray bullet or kidnapped and turned into a prostitute by one of them. Only other option is homeschooling, but I can't read braille and I don't know where I'd even begin to get books to help teach her what she needs to know."

As Viola opened her mouth, a knock on the door jarred all three of them. Colt motioned for the girls to stay there while he went to the door. When he opened the door, he was met by two policemen. Their car's lights were flashing, but their siren was off.

"Mister Sam Colt," one of the officers asked.

Colt narrowed his eyes. "Yeah," he replied.

"Do you mind if we come in," the partner of the first officer asked politely. "This...isn't the kind of visit that should happen outside."

Colt narrowed his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. Confident that they weren't lying, he invited them in before shutting the door behind them. He led them to the living room where they sat down on two chairs while Kiki and Viola sat on the couch on either side of him.

"Mister Colt," the officer started, looking somewhat unsure about how to say what was on his mind. "Your teacher, Mister Balthazar Grovetree, appears to have been killed sometime last night."

Colt's jaw clenched and his eyes seemed to begin to glow crimson. "How," he asked.

"A call came in last night from one of his neighbors," the partner said as he opened his notebook. "A single shot was heard followed by the squeal of tires coming from his home. When the first responders arrived...all they could find was a pillow with a bullet hole and a tulip lying on top of the bed. We followed the tire tracks to an abandoned car, but it had been set on fire. There was no physical evidence to suggest that he was in the car, but the placement of the bullet hole in his pillow...it's impossible that anyone survived a straight shot to the head like that."

"In his Last Will, he placed you as his sole heir," the officer said. "Unfortunately, he seemed to have donated any money he made to Save the Earth-type charities. He did, however, leave you a few of his personal possessions. His journal. A cell phone. And a bag of strange coins that were determined to have no monetary value by local experts on currency." He set all three items on the glass table. "The investigation is still ongoing, but I am confident that we'll catch his murderers and they will see justice. We're sorry for your loss."

With that said, the two officers left the home before driving away. Colt's eyes were practically glowing, floating between crimson and white. Viola and Kiki were shedding silent tears at the loss of such a good teacher, though even they would admit that Colt was likely far closer to the teacher than they were. He was a good person and always treated his students with respect.

"Colt," Kiki said as she wrapped her arms around one of his own massive arms. "Calm down. You heard the police. They're looking for the people responsible."

"Like that will matter," Colt spat. "If the police had a spine, we wouldn't have three gangs running the town and Mr. Grovetree wouldn't be dead. The minute they find whoever did this, they might spend a few days in jail until their buddies can bail them out."

Viola frowned, using her shoulder to wipe away the tears. It was sad, but true. The justice system in Stilwater was run by the gangs who could bribe them. There were some people who were trying to take back their town, but they were in the minority, trying to do things the 'legal' way, which was arguably the slowest way available. If this was what justice was about, then she wanted no part of it.

Colt closed his eyes as he allowed his rage and sadness temper and slowly wane and his eyes began to return to their normal steely color. His breathing became steady and his body stopped shaking. He took slow, steady breaths as his mind started to focus on the matter at hand.

"Master," Claptrap said from the entryway, his tone gone from that of foolish and unbridled joy to a somewhat somber tone.

"Claptrap, can you put... _my_ things away for a moment," he said, his voice having become far from his usual dismissive tone that they'd heard. It sounded...borderline defeated. "I'll look them over tomorrow."

Claptrap gave a weak salute before shoving the three items in a storage space that looked a bit like an old filing cabinet and wheeling them off toward either the garage or Colt's room. It was difficult for either of them to tell since this is literally the first time they'd been in Colt's house.

"Are you alright," Viola asked as she pulled herself into his muscular arm. "You were closest to him, after all."

"I'm...fine," he lied. It was obvious to all three of them that he was lying, but they supposed that it was a guy thing. Wanting to look strong so that others didn't prey on them in a moment of weakness and to keep those close to you from worrying about them. "I just need to...occupy myself. Keep my mind busy."

"Then we're going to be staying here tonight," Kiki said, getting odd looks from Colt and Viola. "With everything thing that's happened, I can't think of a safer place than with the person who saved our lives."

Viola was beginning to understand what Kiki was trying to say. The sudden and strange lion attack. Mr. Grovetree's murder. The constant fighting between the three local gangs, one of which was most likely the group that killed the teacher. Considering their mother was out of town on business, which she never discussed with them, it wasn't like anyone would miss them other than their hormone-driven classmates if they ever suddenly disappeared without rhyme or reason.

Colt seemed to mull Kiki's words over in his mind. "Alright," he said, relenting to the voice(s) of reason that weighed the pros and cons of letting the twins stay there. "Today has arguably been the weirdest day we've ever had and it wouldn't feel right for me to just send you two home when all of this craziness is going on. I've got a few more spare rooms I hardly use outside of spare storage for a few of my tinkerings."

The two girls smiled...until Colt removed his prosthetic arm, laying it on the tabletop in order to inspect it. His left hand held a small pencil-looking tool. He pressed a nearly invisible button on the arm and a few of the plates opened up to reveal the internal mechanisms. He'd found a way to allow it to detach and reattach with ease using a few biometric locks that worked using his fingerprints. When he realized that someone could disarm him by using his fingerprints, he changed it to only release the locks if his pulse was normal and he had to use a certain level of force in order for the locks to become disengaged. This meant that if someone wanted to inspect his prosthetic, they would need him awake and compliant in order to remove it.

They could remove it through other means, but most of those were likely to result in his quick and slightly painful death due to exsanguination and those would be a waste since his knowledge and understanding of his limb would be needed to recreate it for the use of others.

Colt cursed under his breath as he spotted areas where the metal was beginning to corrode from contact with a highly acidic substance, likely that green goo from that strange chimera-looking creature. The substance was long gone, likely having left his arm through the trail that lead to a small vent that, along with numerous others, controlled the intake and outtake of air to help cool down the circuits and motors. "Great," he mumbled in an exasperated tone. "I don't have any replacement parts for any of this. Not to mention the damage to the micro exhaust port. This could take some time to fix. Not to mention the money I'd need just for the raw materials."

He pulled out the long snake fang from his boot, which had thankfully gone undiscovered with the removal of his clothes, and looked it over with a careful eye. It had been used as an improvised shiv in the battle that was slowly coming back to him. He'd used it to target soft points and any vulnerable spots that popped out to him in his fight, but even when he hit an area where there was bone, it seemed to pierce through it with ease. He suspected that the fang was incredibly hard considering it took a full force punch with him hopped up on adrenaline to break it off of the snake that tried to bite him. And since the tip targeted a very small point, added force could allow it to break through bone without breaking itself.

It was rather impressive. Kind of like a hypodermic needle. It was even hollow and attached to a tube that likely carried the acid through a sort of venom sac to inject directly into its victim, dealing massive internal trauma within a matter of seconds due to the acidic nature of the venom, making the fang even more impressive since the fang had to have some kind of alkaline properties to counter the acid and keep it from doing damage to itself unintentionally.

"To think something like that could do so much damage," he mumbled to himself as he gazed to the damaged components of his arm. "I'd hate to have to find out what it would do if it got injected into the human body." Maybe he could sell it to someone for enough money to buy the raw materials and parts he needed to fix his arm...and maybe a few more things to make himself a weapon...for self-defense, of course.

As tempting as it was to contemplate hunting down the bastard(s) who killed Mr. Grovetree, he had better things to do than to plot vengeance. Anger, if tempered and controlled properly, would grant incredible strength, but when that anger becomes wild and untamed, it becomes self-destructive to even the strongest people. As a builder and creator, he valued using his mind and it was pointless and useless to allow anger to overwhelm him when he could be doing something productive.

"Is something wrong with your arm," Viola asked as the two looked closer.

Colt grunted. "Something acidic ate through a few wires and one of the exhaust ports," he replied. "I need to fix it soon before something bad happens."

"What could possibly happen," Kiki asked somewhat skeptically.

"Well, one of two things," Colt remarked, either ignoring or letting her skepticism fly over his head. "My arm could spontaneously catch fire because a stray spark managed to hit some of the lubricant that keep things running smoothly or the gases build up in my arm and a spark turns it into a big bronze bomb that would do a lot of damage to me if it doesn't outright kill me."

"That's...bad," Kiki replied, paling slightly more than normal.

"And those are the worst case scenarios," Colt added. "Highly improbable, but still within the realm of possibility of happening. So it's best if I fix it before it becomes a significant problem."

"And just where do you plan to get your materials from," Viola asked.

"I've got a guy," Colt replied vaguely. "He can get me a lot of stuff, but I'll try and find out if he'll be willing to trade. Those coins Mr. Grovetree left me might have some value to him."

"Can you trust him," Viola asked seriously.

"Without a doubt," Colt remarked with a knowing smirk. "Those three gangs and any crooked cops know better than to try and hustle him for 'protection money' or some stupid shit like that." He looked down the hallway. "Claptrap! Bring me that sack of coins! I'm gonna head down to the old man's shop!"

"WAH," Claptrap cried in shock before wheeling over to Colt with the sack of coins in his hand. "Sorry! I was reading Ruby a bedtime story and your loud shout caught me by surprise!"

Viola and Kiki looked at the robot with a flat look while Colt simply laughed at the idea. "Don't worry," he said with a smirk as he took the sack of coins. "I trust you, which is why I'm going to ask you to do me a favor." The robot gave a salute, his lone camera lens-like eye gaining a shine to it. "I want you to keep Ruby Rose, Kiki, and Viola safe. If anyone tries to break in, you have my permission to activate the semi-lethal defenses. If they manage to get inside, go straight to lethal. Follow Protocol CL-104.6 when applicable and DP-162.95 when it can't be applied. Got it?"

"YES, SIR," he said enthusiastically.

"Good," Colt said. "Go ahead and take them to one of the spare rooms. Catalog everything inside their room that isn't furniture and move it to another sorting location."

As Colt walked into the garage, Claptrap rolled over to Kiki and Viola. "Come along, ladies," he said in a proud tone. "I shall be your stalwart defender from the bad guys!"

As the two followed Claptrap, they were surprised to see a room coming up that wasn't filled with stuff hanging on the walls. Oh sure. It had some kind of strange machines or devices hanging around or lying around, but for the most part, the room was actually fairly spartan. All it had was a King-sized bed, a dresser, a massive flat screen TV, and those odd assorted gadgets lying around. "Why is there such a huge bed in this room," Viola asked as she tried to take in the size of the room.

"Actually, this is one of a small handful of rooms with a bed in it," Claptrap said offhandedly. "The Master Bedroom and the two guest rooms. The other rooms are mostly for storage...except for my little closet! My best buddy was nice enough to give me my own closet to sleep and recharge in!"

Claptrap's arms seemed to stretch and extend before grabbing two things from the walls before wheeling off to another room. After about five trips, the room looked like a room rather than storage.

Colt looked at his motorcycle, having finished installing a few of the basics that he could. It would do for now, but when he had the materials, he'd begin upgrading it the way he wanted to. The garage door opened wide and Colt started the engine, revving it up as the motor purred like a kitten. The bike blasted through the street going at 145 miles an hour. Colt's helmet was secured snugly as he swerved and dodged through traffic. His ADHD was working overtime, but this was one instance where he was thankful for it.

A car came to a stop in front of him, but he merely popped a wheelie and literally drove over it before continuing racing down the street to his destination.

At his rate of speed, it didn't take him long before he found himself parked outside of a small store with a hammer and anvil on the sign. Colt removed the keys from the ignition and pressed a button, activating his motorcycle's defenses, before heading into the shop. When the door was shut, Colt allowed his eyes to adjust to the lighting in the building.

All around him were sheets of metal ranging from bronze to something as rare as titanium. Tools littered the floor and walls. "Hey, old man," Colt called. "I need to place an order!"

"Hold your horses, boy," called a gruff voice from the back. From around the corner came a rather short, stout man with a long wiry black beard and matted black hair. He almost looked like a dwarf from the Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring movie. It was descent, but not his favorite movie out there. The man looked caked in oil, sweat, and other assorted grime that was seen in his profession and wore a pair of dirty overalls with a name tag that read 'Heph' on it. When their eyes met, a smile appeared on his face. "Ah! Well if it isn't the Hero of Stilwater Zoo! What can I do for you, m'boy?"

"Firstly, I'd like to find out if you'd be interested in a trade," he said, setting the small bag of coins on the counter. Heph's hand grabbed the bag and pulled out a strange looking coin. His eyes widened marginally, but not enough to show his surprise.

"Where'd ya get your hands on these," he asked curiously before biting the coin.

"My teacher, Mr. Grovetree, was murdered," Colt said sadly. "These were left to me in his will along with his journal and a cell phone."

"I see," Heph said as he stroked his beard in musing. "Do you know what they are?"

Colt shrugged his shoulders. "I thought they were just some strange coin he collected."

"No, m'boy," Heph said. "These are Drachmas. Ancient Greek currency. It's rare to see authentic Drachmas. Pure gold, too. Either your teacher had no idea the value of what he was sitting on or he was far richer than anyone knew." Colt's eyes widened to almost comical levels. Coins the size of Girl Scout cookies made out of pure gold!? That was insane! "So you said you wanted to trade, eh? I'm sure we can work out some kind of deal out. What were you looking for?"

Colt pulled off his arm and opened it up. "Something was really strange about that lion at the zoo," he mentioned, pointing out the corroded parts. "It had some kind of powerful acid. Looked like a chimera from that Dungeons & Dragons game. Then again, my ADHD was acting up pretty badly, so I might have been mistaken. I was wondering if you could fix it up for me. I don't quite trust that I could manage the repairs with one arm or that the arm wouldn't short out on me with all of that damage. That and I could use a few sheets of steel, titanium, and that strange bronze that my arm and leg are made from."

"What do ya need all of those things for," Heph asked.

"I plan on making a couple of weapons," Colt said honestly. "Something to protect these three girls I know. With the escalation of the gang violence across Stilwater, I want to be able to fight back if push comes to shove."

"Three girls," Heph asked with a snort. "I thought you preferred being by yourself with that machine friend of yours."

Colt smiled. "I still do, but these three...they're different," he said.

"Women usually are," Heph said with a snort. "But rarely is it a good kind of different."

"They were attacked by that lion," Colt said, causing Heph to look him in his steely eyes. "My body just moved on its own. Even though two of them are annoying, the other one is just a little girl...and I couldn't just sit back and watch them die."

"I know, m'boy," Heph said, nodding with a smirk on his face. "Just watch yourself and don't let yourself be used by them. A woman can bring out the best in someone like you, but they can also bring out the worst in us all."

"Speaking from experience, Heph," Colt asked.

"Aye," he responded spitefully. "My 'wife', if I could speak of her with such an endearing term, constantly cheats on me with this stupid thug without an ounce of common sense."

"Why not divorce her," Colt asked.

"The family refuses to let me," he spat. "Says it's for the good of everyone. Bah! She's just a harlot who wouldn't know true love if it up an had its way with her and he's an imbecile who could never appreciate her as anything other than someone to sate his lust." He looked at Colt sympathetically. "If you have to take something from me, don't let yourself be tied down. Especially by someone who doesn't appreciate you for who you are. It will only hurt you in the end."

Colt nodded. "Thanks for the advice, Heph," Colt said.

"Bah," he said. "Enough of that sentimental gibberish. Let's get this arm of yours fixed up, then we can work on getting your order made. And since I doubt you can carry it all on that motorcycle of yours, I'll deliver it when I can get it all sorted."

As the two walked into the back where a professional forge was waiting, Colt allowed the warm air to wash over him. "So what do you think of my little project," he said. "I call it the Kaneda. It's just in its prototype stage right now, but once I get the materials, I can finish it up properly."

"Aerodynamic. Slim frame. Standard Street Racing Tires," Heph said. "Looks a lot more advanced than most of the motorcycles on the market. Automatic belt driven clutch with no gears?"

"Yep," Colt said. "I hated the time it took to shift between gears and the small speed drop between the shifts, so I wanted to make something that kept it at a constant speed without having to worry about shifting. Theoretically, it could allow me to drive up a wall of a building with enough speed and the right tires. I based it off of the lightcycle in Tron, but with my own little adjustments and improvements."

"It's nice," Heph said admiringly. "I look forward to seeing it when it's finished."

The two worked on the arm, which Heph had replied that he was lucky it hadn't gone haywire. The two agreed to add a little more shielding/armor to it in order to prevent a similar occurrence from happening again. Once everything was changed out, Colt managed to make a great bargain, in his opinion. He'd get fifteen 36 in. x 36 in. sheets of steel, fifty sheets of the strange bronze, eighteen bronze ingots weighing in at around 1000 grams, and ten sheets of titanium for eight of those Golden Drachmas. Considering there were forty in the bag, he swore to the man that he'd make more orders through him from now on.

As he headed home on his Kaneda, he began to wonder how the girls were all settling in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Half-Blood Saints**

 **Written By: Rave Rose of Twilight**

 **Warning: I don't own anything I might reference in this story.**

Chapter Four: Calling All Saints! Let's Kick Ass!

It took Heph only a day before he dropped the materials off at Colt's garage workshop. With his arm fixed, Colt had continued to work in his workshop. Surprisingly enough, Ruby Rose was sitting on the table, watching him as he worked with a large smile on her face. She looked genuinely entertained and excited as he forged parts and pieces for his newest project: a pistol he planned on using for self-defense. It was going to be .45 caliber with a carrying capacity of 7+1in the chamber. It was designed to look like a fusion of the Magnum Research Desert Eagle and a SIG-Sauer P220. He settled for a .45 because of its raw stopping power and ability to inflict damage in comparison to the 9mm ammunition. While 9mm may have a larger carrying capacity and could be fired off faster, that didn't mean it would be accurate. A .45 would fire slower, but made users take their time to make every shot count.

He forged his own ammunition from some of the bronze ingots and the special bronze used in his arm. The ammunition made from the special bronze seemed to glow slightly, allowing him to differentiate it from the ammo made from the regular bronze. He then split the two into their own groups. He'd put them into magazines later when he had a bit more free time.

Once he was content with his creation, he looked down the glow sights before pulling the trigger once. An empty click echoed in his ears, but the click told him enough about the condition of the weapon that he smiled, loaded it with a magazine of regular bronze bullets, and holstered it in his concealed hip holster. He looked over to Ruby, who was looking at a few of the tools in awe. He'd gone to school and told them he was dropping out. The principal seemed to understand why and waved the motion through without hesitation before wishing the young teen his best wishes in whatever future endeavors he chose to engage in.

Naturally, he didn't expect Kiki or Viola to drop out. While they chose to stay enrolled, they did offer to come by after school was out to spend time with him and Ruby.

Claptrap was standing around, waiting for orders, when gunshots rang out and his garage door was pierced by an incoming hail of bullets. Many of them had managed to come close, but not enough to harm Ruby. A fire burned in his eyes. "CLAPTRAP," Colt shouted to the shaking robot. "TAKE RUBY INSIDE! TELL KIKI AND VIOLA TO TAKE COVER!"

With a fearful cry, Claptrap snatched Ruby off the counter and rushed inside while Colt pulled out his weapon, taking cover behind the corner as he opened the garage door.

As soon as the door was partially opened, Colt spotted two people around his age taking cover behind a car with a pistol in their hands while the guns aimed out of a crimson low rider were firing wildly. Colt took aim at the windshield, which had been tinted to hide the identity of those inside, and fired a single shot through the driver's side. He could barely see it, but there was blood splattered across the windshield barely showing through the tint. He'd hit his mark.

"Get over here," he shouted to the two, who heard him and ran over to the cover of the garage as fast as they could. Colt took a brief moment to examine them for any wounds. One of them was a tall teen built similar to him. He had an Asian look to him with black hair with white stripes in a pseudo-military flat top. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and he wore a purple thin wool jacket left open to reveal a plain white tee-shirt. Gold hoop earrings and a pair of gold chain necklaces. Polynesian tattoos on both sides of his neck. Baggy denim jeans and a pair of Doc Martin boots. His whole appearance screamed thug, but there was a somewhat refined quality to it. Not like those old Godfather gangsters, but not like most of the idiot street thugs that littered the streets of every city in the United States.

His buddy had light brown hair and a matching goatee. He wore a black polo with a purple stripe across the chest over a purple undershirt. He only had a single gold chain necklace, baggy jeans, and some nice dress shoes that looked like they could be worn casually and formally. Both of them were holding onto a 9mm that looked like it was a Walther P99 with Glock influences.

"Friends of yours," Colt asked the two before taking aim and firing two more times. One bullet hit the passenger's side of the windshield. The second hit the passenger's side tire, puncturing it as air quickly left it through the large gaping hole the .45 made.

"No fucking way," the brunette said, taking a few shots at the car. The driver's side opened up and a corpse was violently thrown out before the car sped away like a bat out of hell. The trio holstered their weapons. "Thanks for the assist, by the way."

"No problem," Colt said as the fire in him died down. He looked around his workshop with obvious anger. Thankfully, none of his projects were hit, but the fact that Ruby had been within inches of having a bullet end her life was enough to incite his rage. "Motherfuckers damn near killed my little sister. I wasn't about to let them get away with it."

"Good to know," the Asian guy said before extending his hand to Colt. "Johnny Gat, but my friends call me Gat. This is my buddy, Troy."

Colt took his hand and shook firmly. "Most just call me Colt," he answered before turning and shaking Troy's hand. He moved to the garage door opener and opened up a panel before pressing several buttons. The garage door shut and the sound of storm shutters lowering could be heard by the group as the light shining from the bullet holes in the garage door were sealed away. "Those should be able to keep anything those morons have from getting through. Follow me."

"Where are we going," Gat asked.

"My house," Colt answered. "I've been prepping for something like this to happen. I figure you guys can help me out."

"With what," asked Troy.

Colt snorted. "What else," he asked sarcastically. "We're going to free Stilwater from these idiots."

"Don't we have enough gangs running around," Troy asked in an annoyed tone.

"I don't want to take over," Colt said as they walked through the living room. "If I were completely honest, I would have been happy just sitting by and watching the gangs tear themselves apart. But then one of them went out and killed my teacher and now they try and shoot up my neighborhood, nearly killing my little sister? I'm done sitting on my ass. If the cops are too damned scared or corrupt to do shit, I guess we'll have to take matters into our own hands, now won't we?"

Gat chuckled darkly. "You know, I think I'm beginning to like the way you think, Colt," he answered. "So where do we start? Carnales? Vice Kings? Rollerz?"

"The Rollerz are the least dangerous of all three," Colt said. "They just run the garages and the street racing scene. The main targets should be the Kings and the Carnales. Get the drugs off the streets and stop the prostitution. Just doing that is going to help get Stilwater back on its feet. But we're going to need friends. We can't do this on our own."

"So you want us to recruit," Troy said, mumbling to himself and nodding his head slowly. "I think I know a few people. Let me see who I can find."

"What's our name gonna be," Gat asked. "If we're gonna be in this gang war, we're gonna need a name. Something people will recognize."

"Something to bring hope to the people and put the fear of God in our enemies," Colt said before a name came to him. "How about the Saints?"

Gat and Troy chuckled. "Going with the church-theme, eh," Gat asked. "Saint's Row, named after the big church on 3rd Street."

"That's it," Troy said excitedly. "We'll be the 3rd Street Saints!"

"Sounds good to me," Colt said, getting a nod from Troy and Gat. Colt looked up toward the staircase. "Coast is clear, Claptrap." Troy and Gat were both surprised as a mechanical cyclops rolled down the staircase followed by Kiki, Viola, and Ruby Rose close behind. "Are you girls alright?"

"We're fine," Viola said briefly before finally taking notice of the two other guys in the house. "Who're they?"

"Johnny Gat and Troy," he introduced shortly. "They were being shot at by Los Carnales, so I decided to help them out. They just agreed to help me take back Stilwater."

Kiki looked at the trio like they had gone insane. "You're going to fight them?!"

"We don't have a choice anymore," Colt said sternly. "Mister Grovetree's dead. Ruby almost got shot. It won't be long before they come back with a bigger force and try to take over. So yeah. I'm gonna fight."

"But you could die," Viola shouted angrily, causing Colt to scoff.

"I'd rather die fighting than bowing down to thugs like a coward," he responded, getting a smirk from Gat who placed his arm around Colt's shoulder.

"The Boss is right," Gat said. "Besides, I'll have his back, so he won't be dying anytime soon."

"And he won't be alone either," Troy inserted. "We're going to find every single person our age who's sick of the fighting and rally them together. This isn't a gang. It's a movement. A revolution. We're going to take back Stilwater and make sure that gangs won't be running it ever again."

Kiki and Viola looked at the three and, simply knowing how stubborn Colt was, knew that their minds were made up. "If you girls are worried, I'll build you something to protect yourselves. A gun. A knife. A taser. Whatever you want to help you feel that much safer and to give me some peace of mind. Alright? I promise. The Saints won't lose this fight. Stilwater will be free."

The girls looked to one another before finally giving in. "Alright," the two said simultaneously. "Just...don't do something stupid and get yourself hurt. Okay?"

Colt gave a small smile and nodded to the worried twins, helping to alleviate them of their worries to a degree. "Come on," he said smoothly. "This is me we're talking about."

 _'That's what we're afraid of,'_ the twins thought simultaneously as they felt a certain level of uncertainty rise up in the pit of their stomachs. But they shook their heads before heading back upstairs where the rest of their homework remained followed closely by Claptrap.

"Alright," Colt said as he turned toward Gat and Troy. "Troy. Get the word out. Stilwater will be reclaimed and tell anyone willing to fight to meet up at the old church. Gat. I need you to help clear out the church. If it's going to be our base of operations, we'll need it properly reinforced before moving on with our plans to take out the gangs and I can't do that if there's rubble and shit around. Once we get our people and the church reinforced, we'll need tech and computers, but I can handle that easily enough." He put a hand to his chin. "Maybe build in an underground vehicle depot for easy deployment of backup. Definitely need some weapons. Enough to arm an army, at the least," he grumbled to himself before shaking himself from his plans. He'd write down a list of stuff he'd need later when he had a bit of time. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbled down a hasty phone number. "You've got your assignments. Call this number with any news and updates."

"You got it, Boss," the two said with matching smirks before heading to fulfill their given assignments.

Meanwhile, Colt went to his workshop and sat down by his custom built laptop. He scoffed to himself. His laptop could rival almost every military-grade supercomputer in the world with specs that most would believe to be impossible. His fingers dashed across the keyboard and the schematics of the old 3rd Street church came up on his screen. It was a massive two story building with cathedral ceilings, a gothic era design, and two rooms labeled for administrative purposes and a school room large enough to fit between fifteen to twenty-five children depending on whether they used desks and how they configured the arrangements of those desks.

He bit his lip. He'd have to dig at least fifteen feet undergound, if not deeper to fit even six cars and their munitions and weapons in the underground depot he wanted to install and he was bound to run into utility lines in the process. Colt swore mentally before an idea popped into his head. Those Los Carnales idiots were likely to come back after getting their asses curb stomped earlier. If he could shut down the utility lines remotely when they came back again, he could blame the shortage on them. Not only would it put the public opinion of the Saints on their side, giving them a huge morale boost and support (physical or emotional) from those living on Saint's Row, but it would get it out that the Saints were actually helping Stilwater instead of trying to take over. Especially if the Saints helped the residents by providing food, water, and security free of charge until the utilities could be turned back on.

He took a pen and using a few pieces of blueprint paper he had on hand to draw up a set of plans for the church. And his suggested modifications to make it a viable base. On a separate sheet of paper, he wrote down a 'grocery' list of things he'd need to do what he wanted to do to the church. He knew he could actually do this to the church. And when the gangs were gone, he'd simply break everything down, store it away for future use, and return it into a church for the public to visit and worship at once again.

He wasn't spiritual. He didn't really believe in God or the supernatural, but he did understand the role spirituality and religion played in the lives of others around the world. A sense of hope. The belief that when you died, there was something waiting for you beyond just being a rotting corpse lying six feet beneath the earth if you abide by the tenets of your faith. Fear that by breaking the tenets of your faith or 'sinning' would result in eternal torture and damnation.

Colt shook his head free of his thoughts and returned to his work. Taking down the gangs of Stilwater would require a great deal of planning and he refused to leave anything to chance.

Meanwhile...

Chiron was walking through the forest surrounding Camp Half-Blood as his thoughts drifted to his friend, Balthazar Grovetree, and the conversation they had last night. A son of Hephaestus, a daughter of Demeter and Legacy of Hermes, and twin daughters of Hades all in the middle of Stilwater, Michigan. Stuck in an area too dangerous to send any demigods and/or satyrs for retrieval thanks to the gang war going on. And those were just the ones he knew of. Such potential and he was practically powerless to do anything to help.

Even Zeus had forbidden the other Olympians from interfering in the affairs of mortals unless it posed a direct threat to Olympus or risked exposing the existence of the Olympians to mortals. And this was most certainly neither of those things. Nevertheless, he was still worried for the four demigods and his closest friend. Balthazar could have joined the Council of Cloven Elders, but the old satyr said that he's been bringing demigods to camp for so many years that it would feel unnatural for him to continue to do otherwise, and though he would love to be a voice to help Chiron and the young satyr guardians of Half-Blood Hill, it was his duty to bring as many demigods to camp as he could until he was rendered physically incapable of doing so further.

Last week had been his 123rd birthday and the two had planned on making a big, yet private celebration of it for the past year. Six months prior, the gang war erupted and Balthazar had practically told the Cloven Elders that Stilwater was no longer safe, effectively blacklisting it until the day the gangs either killed one another or when one gang finally came out on top. The man was stubborn, but wise beyond his years. He helped train a good many satyrs from their youth to become guardians for young demigods. Chiron speculated that barely half of the demigods they had gotten since the old goat had become a guardian would have been anywhere near as successful as they had been were it not for him.

Still, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something happened. Something was wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it. But he had a duty to uphold. To train young demigods to become heroes. He'd call Balthazar later, but for now, he had Master's Archery to attend to with Apollo's Cabin and Hermes' Cabin.

Several days later...

Colt was standing in the middle of the old church where the old and broken dais once stood. Looking out at the group of gathered youths, he could see a willingness to fight in their eyes. A deep desire to stand up against their aggressors and take back their home. Pride filled his veins. They shared the same fire he had within him. Standing in front of him were Gat and Troy, acting as bodyguards or enforcers.

"For a long time now, we've been putting up with these stupid gangs running the streets, doing whatever they wanted without fear of retribution," he said. He'd originally wanted to write out a speech, but something deep inside told him that it would be better to speak from his heart instead of his head. "A small part of me was hoping that they'd tear each other apart and we could get back to normal. But I learned quick enough that these bastards are too stubborn and too stupid to die like that. Saint's Row was one of the last remaining sanctuaries in Stilwater from the gangs and the senseless violence that runs rampant across this city. Until last week when Los Carnales came in and shot up the place."

"We can't continue to sit idly by," he continued. "If we do, nothing will change. The police are either corrupt or trying to solve the problem the 'legal' way. I'm not going to put up with this idiocy anymore. If we want to make things right, we have no choice but to fight back!" The crowd erupted into a loud cheer and fists were raised high in the air. "We'll take Stilwater back with our own hands! And for those of you who want to take over in the place of Los Carnales, the Vice Kings, and the Rollerz, there is no place for you here. I don't want to run this town. We'd be no better than the gangs we're going to destroy. I want to make this city a better place for the future generations who will inevitably inherit this town like we did from our parents. My little sister. She's my reason for fighting back. And so long as these gangs are a threat to her and her future, I will never stop fighting until my last breath. So who's with me?!"

The crowd erupted into a resounding cry of cheers and shouts of revolution, making Colt smile briefly. Looking down at Gat and Troy, they were cheering right alongside the crowd. He nodded. This was the first step.

Kiki and Viola were standing just outside the open doors of the church-turned-base for Colt's revolution, each wanting to know just what he planned on doing. Neither of them had expected such a rousing speech from the loner mechanical genius. Neither of them had expected to be swept up by it either. But try as they might, the fires of revolution now burned within their chests and it wasn't going to leave until the three gangs were crushed under heel.

As Colt gave the newly dubbed 3rd Street Saints orders, Gat was distributing pistols to each member who had been ordered to take up patrols on the streets of Saint's Row and a few outlying neighborhoods. Easily concealed to prevent members of the other three gangs from picking up on their possible intentions. Troy was handing out clothes and patches in their 'color' of purple and white with a fleur-de-lis on the chest or shoulder surrounded by a silver border and even some necklaces with the symbolic purple fleur-de-lis.

With smiles on their faces, pride in their hearts, and a burning in their veins, Kiki and Viola left to return to Colt's house with plans of their own running in their mind. Because this was just the beginning.


End file.
